The Imaginary Olympics

Dusty Gilbert

Founder, bareCommunication & Editor, skirt! Houston

Dusty Gilbert is an International Studies Graduate from the University of St. Thomas. With professional experience in print publications, the non-profit sector, website development, and the real estate industry, she is currently a writer, a local columnist, Editor of skirt! Houston Online and the...

Dusty Gilbert

Friday, May, 23, 2008

In front of a rustic cabin, in the middle of a Mid-western forest, there stood a little girl. Atop a "balance beam" made of jagged rock about three feet from the earth, the little girl, with her thick glasses and messy pony tale, stood ready to rise to a challenge.

The underdog in her own imaginary Olympics, she twirled, flipped, and balanced on her big toe with grace. Despite her imperfect gymnastics equipment, she was determined to defeat the odds. With each small victory, her confidence climbed and she increased the difficulty of her routine. In her internal transformation to All-Star, her worn biker shorts became sparkling leggings, her oversized tee-shirt became a Tinkerbell-inspired costume, her cheeks blushed pink and the forest became an expansive stadium. Although others would have heard the rusting of leaves in the summer breeze, she heard the crowd roar. Heart pumping excitement through her veins, she prepared...

Taking a final deep breath and silencing all hesitation, the little girl took her first steps in the day's finale performance. Yet, before she had fully lifted her hands to attempt the world's most exquisite move, something happened…

One of the rocks on her natural "balance beam" wiggled loose as she balanced on one leg and lifted the other. Feeling the slight movement of her foundation, she strengthened the muscles in her legs to remain steady and composed. Holding the pose for a few moments, her fear diminished as she felt in control once again.

Then, she fell.

Hitting the rugged ground below her Olympic stage, her breath was violently knocked from her body. Unable to breath, time seemed stagnant as she lay unable to move for what seemed like an eternity.

Then, as violently as it had left, oxygen came rushing back into her lungs. Coughing and gasping, she opened her green eyes, to see her Grandpa. Having rushed from the cabin as soon as she fell, he scooped her up and she knew she was safe.

The next day, she returned to the Olympics executing a flawless performance.

I was 6 years old, when I lost my breath in the woods.

Recently, it happened again.

This time, losing oxygen in a more abstract sense and temporally trading seconds for weeks, my ability to breath has been progressively coming back for a while. But, tonight, it reached 100% again.

At the end of the day, I walked my Grandma to her awaiting Chrysler chariot, and in the driver's seat, was my Grandpa. At that moment, I knew I was safe again.